Oh, No, Not Another Mutiny Fixed Format
by LMR
Summary: Something Strange is Happening on Voyager (What's New?). Pairing: PT, D7, and jokingly QJ Yeah, finally updated!
1. See, I Told You Nothing Bad Would Happen

Oh No, Not Another Mutiny! Spoilers: The whole darn series Timeline: Shortly after "Drive" Pairing: P/T, D/7, J/Q (Don't like it, don't read it.) Genre: Delightfully eccentric, but not lacking action (including a bant'leth fight!) Rated: PG  
  
A/N: The characters are going to act really screwy and out of character. There's a reason, bear with me!  
  
Summary: Something very strange is going on in Voyager (What's new?).  
  
Disclaimer: "We don't own Star Trek: Voyager!"  
  
"Yes we do!"  
  
"Rool, you are drunk, and when you are drunk, you forget that I do the disclaimers!"  
  
"So do we own it or not?"  
  
"Yes!"  
  
(No I don't, and I don't own Willow either.) ******************************************* Chapter One: I told you nothing bad would happen!  
  
Neelix had already started his fried Glamerian eggs (don't ask) for the morning meal. Once their pungent smell had started to fill the air, it was time to add the Sumian pumpkin. Perfect. It would be just right in time for the first rush of the day. The night shift was just about to get off. He looked out the view screen. Beautiful. They were soaring right through a nebula, and not just any nebula, but a type completely unheard of in any Starfleet literature. Even Seven of Nine, with the expertise of the entire collective couldn't quite discern what it was.  
  
"It is strange, Captain. It seems. . . familiar to me, and yet I cannot specify what it is. This sensation is new to me. Borg do not forget."  
  
The captain had seemed puzzled. "Is it possible that you encountered this nebula, or one like it before you were assimilated?"  
  
Seven raised an eyebrow. "Possible."  
  
And that had been the most conclusive lead they had on the mystery formation. Fascinating. Really fascinating. Neelix loved the novelty of it all. Of course, some of the crew, okay, just Tuvok, had expressed worry about flying straight through an unknown spatial fluctuation. The rest of the crew held the opinion, as stated by Mr. Paris: "Oh, geeze, lighten up, Tuvok." The captain had eventually sided with the majority. Going around the formation would have added weeks, possibly months to their journey, and as always, the Captain was anxious to explore new things. Of course, she assured Tuvok, they would constantly be on alert for any signs of trouble. The Lieutenant Commander had been less than thrilled, but completely obedient, as always. He promised to work overtime, if necessary, to make sure that the crew was safe. So far, no trouble, just a beautiful space anomaly. And Neelix, in his eternal optimism, was sure that there was no trouble.  
  
Funny. It was certainly time for breakfast. Usually there were plenty of people here before he had even finished the meal. Today, the place was empty. He stepped outside to see if something was wrong.  
  
That something was wrong didn't begin to describe it. Parker and Redding, two young ensigns, were grappling in the corridor. All around them, others gathered, stunned. "Ensigns! Ensigns! That is enough!" Neelix separated them with as much effort as he could muster. Fortunately, Commander Chakotay came by for breakfast right about then, and he and Neelix together could separate the brawling ensigns.  
  
The Commander was furious. "What the hell is going on here Ensigns?"  
  
"Ask your little Maquis friend!" Parker said, his voice seething with anger. "I know what you're up to! You're planning a mutiny! You'll never get away with it!"  
  
"Don't be absurd, Ensign." He pointed to Redding. "Come with me, we need to have a little chat." Back to Parker, "I'll be coming right back to have a talk with you." He yanked Redding out of earshot of the others. "Are you crazy! I told you to keep a cool cover! What the hell was that? Are you trying to ruin this whole thing? What if it had been the Captain that had come down that hallway? You could have completely given us away. You watch your mouth, you watch your appearences. You act like the perfect Starfleet ensign until I say so. Remember who's in charge here."  
  
"Yes, sir," Redding responded.  
  
"And don't you dare say anything about this to the Captain." He raised his voice as he sent Redding down the hall. "Report to the Captain's ready room immediately!"  
  
Back to Parker. "You, come with me."  
  
  
  
*************************************************** Ooooh, intriguing! What will happen next?! Please R&R! Luv ya' ~ LMR 


	2. Dissention

Oh, No, Not Another Mutiny!  
  
Disclaimer: If you believe that I own Star Trek, I have a bridge to sell you. *************************************** Chapter 2: Dissention  
  
By now the usual breakfast crowd was in. Neelix, ever his friendly self, had all but forgotten the unpleasant incident that had happened just a couple of hours ago. He mingled through the mess hall, greeting everyone. While many were often mildly annoyed by Neelix's overly amiable attitude, people today were downright stuffy. Not rude, really, more like they were. . . . paranoid. Strange. He moved his way over to Lieutenant Torres. She had just gotten back from her honeymoon on the moon of Vega, she should be in a good enough mood. "Good morning, Lieutenant! How are you doing this morning."  
  
She jumped, then a look of disgust crossed her face. Then again that was slightly normal for her. Then she just sighed, that familiar vulnerability popping up. "Well, I just got off the night shift, eight hours of listening to Vorik being 'logical.' But other than that I guess I'm fine."  
  
"Well, I'm glad to hear it!" He took a seat, uninvited. The look on her face clearly showed that she considered him uninvited. "So, do you have any holopictures of the moon of Vega? From what I hear, it's very beautiful."  
  
She seemed puzzled, somewhat dreamy. "No."  
  
Neelix could see that, not only did she not want to talk, but she wasn't really all there either. Probably very tired. Who could blame her? Eight hours! And with Vorik, no less. Even Neelix, friend to all, was slightly put off by the younger Vulcan.  
  
He spotted Ensign Kim (one of the crew who seemed to truly like many of his recipies) sitting across the room from B'Elanna. Strange. They usually sat together. "Hello there, Ensign! How are you this morning?" Harry smiled a little. That was something, anyway. "Beautiful view, isn't it?"  
  
Harry had the same spaced look as B'Elanna. "Yeah, sure is."  
  
"You sure aren't eating your eggs very well. I was sure you liked that recipe." in truth, Neelix knew Harry hated it."  
  
There was a slightly glazed look on Harry's face. "Yes, I do."  
  
Neelix hesitated. "Did you notice Lieutenant Torres is over there? Looks like she could use some company. I bet she would love to talk with you." He straightened, smiling slyly. "Say, you look like you could use a friend to talk to yourself. You know, breakfast is the most important meal of the day, and everything important should be shared with friends."  
  
Harry raised an eyebrow, not unlike Seven of Nine. "Excuse me, Neelix. I think I'll be going."  
  
*************************************  
  
"I am annoyed, Doctor."  
  
"Well, it's nice to see you, too, Seven."  
  
He ran a scan as she spoke. "You have been teaching me to explore my emotions. At the moment, I am experiencing annoyance. I am expressing my emotions, as you taught me."  
  
The Doctor frowned. "Have I also explained to you the concept of tact?"  
  
"You, Doctor, are hardly one to be talking." An undetectable smile crossed Seven's face. The Doctor had succeeded in teaching her humor, anyway.  
  
The Doctor snorted, still scanning. "Fit as the proverbial fiddle," he informed her. "Any problems to report?"  
  
"Only boredom. These scans are futile. I am perfectly well maintained. As you said, I am a 'fiddle.'"  
  
"Indeed you are. But what I meant was is the nebula effecting your cortical implants?"  
  
"No. It has had no discernable effect on me whatsoever."  
  
"Good, glad to hear it. Well, if you run into anything unusual, stop by." He went on, somewhat hopelessly. "Or you could just come visit."  
  
Her eyebrow raised. "Perhaps."  
  
The Doctor sighed as she left. Sheesh, did he feel like an idiot.  
  
******************************************* On the bridge, Captain Janeway stared out at the nebula. Just because she was stranded in the middle of nowhere, and responsible for the lives of over one hundred people, and under constant stress didn't mean she couldn't appreciate simple beauty. At the helm of her starship, she gazed at the shifting, colorful nebula ahead of her. Commander Chakotay was off duty at the moment. Commander Tuvok was at his post, as were Paris and Kim.  
  
Paris spoke up. "Um, Captain, I know that it's really none of my business, but what happened with Ensign Redding? Was he up to something we should worry about?"  
  
The Captain looked perplexed.. "Ensign Redding? What about him?"  
  
"This morning, Chakotay sent Ensign Redding to your ready room. He got in trouble for fighting in the corridor."  
  
"Fighting?" The Captain frowned. "Well, you're right, it isn't any of your business, but in this case I'm glad you brought it up. No one's been to my ready room, I was there all morning." She turned to Tuvok and gestured. "You have the bridge." He nodded understanding. She tapped her combadge before she was out of the room. "Ensign Redding, report to my ready room immediately."  
  
"Yes, Ma'am."  
  
******************************  
  
"What's this I hear about you fighting in the corridors?" Calm rage was etched across her face."  
  
Redding swallowed, terrified. The commander had given him strict orders to not tell the captain, orders that overruled the demand that he go to the ready room, something he had said for the audience's sake. What could he tell? How angry would the commander be? How much would the Captain suspect. Surely she knew that they were up to something.  
  
The Captain did indeed know that, or rather, suspected it. She had noticed some strange behavior. It was those awful Maquis. She was beginning to think she'd been crazy to trust them. She hadn't really had a choice, there were enough of them to overtake the ship if she didn't appease them, make them feel welcome. Now she began to wonder if she had done the right thing. Her memories blurred, and all she could think about was her mistrust of the Maquis. She was sure that that had something to do with this brawl. "So, you want to tell me what this fight was about?"  
  
"Ma'am, Ensign Parker accused me of being a traitor."  
  
"And you think that gives you the right to beat him? In case you haven't noticed, Ensign, that is not how we resolve our conflicts here."  
  
Redding stuttered. "But Parker, Ma'am"  
  
"Will be dealt with later. Right now, we're focusing on your problem. What makes you think you have the right to beat someone for saying something you find offensive? Do you really think that's a productive way to deal with things? Do you think that's how were supposed to fix all our problems? Beat them away?" Her voice was still low, but Redding could hear the fury. He consoled himself by noticing that she seemed to think that it was just the action of a hot tempered individual, not a sign of an uprising. As long as she didn't suspect the truth, he could deal with the consequences, no matter how severe.  
  
The question he didn't want to hear was coming. "And another thing." He winced. "Why didn't you come to me when Commander Chakotay ordered you?"  
  
"I'm sorry Ma'am. I have no excuse."  
  
"You deliberately disobeyed the Commander. Funny. You had no trouble following his orders when you were in the Maquis." There was a definite pique in her voice.  
  
"He gritted his teeth. "Please consider it a one time mistake. I won't be making it again."  
  
"Indeed. Consider your holodeck privileges suspended indefinitely. For the next three days, you are confined to quarters. That should give you some time to think about your actions."  
  
"Yes, Ma'am." Security escorted him out.  
  
When he was gone, she tapped her combadge again. "Ensign Parker, my ready room, now."  
  
******************************  
  
The Doctor was starting to understand Seven's feelings during her examination. Torres was now checking on his subroutines, making sure he was working properly. and her bedside manner was disastrous. Poor Mr. Paris, he mused. He considered telling her the joke, but judging by the look on her face, she might delete his head matrix if he dared. So he made an attempt at friendly chatter. "So how are you today, Lieutenant?"  
  
"Horrible. I've been putting up with Starfleet know - it - alls all day."  
  
The Doctor was shocked by her attitude. He knew B'Elanna tended to be a little. . . temperamental, but she hadn't been prejudiced against Starfleet officers for several years now. She considered herself one of them, and they, her. She was married to one for goodness sakes! The only time she ever used the word 'Starfleet' that way was referring to Harry, and that was just a joke between two friends, never insulting. The Doctor risked a minor comment. "Oh? Have you been having trouble with Starfleet officers."  
  
She suddenly looked very suspicious. "No." She tried to relax a little. "No more than usual. People get on my nerves sometimes, that's all." The Doctor decided not to comment. "By the way, Doctor, who all has been in to see you lately."  
  
The Doctor thought for a moment. "Well, Miss Wildman had an ear infection a couple days ago, but other than that. . ."  
  
B'Elanna seemed interested. "What did you talk about. How is she, I mean?"  
  
"Aside from the earache, she seemed fine to me." He rolled his eyes. "Apparently Flotter is doing well, also."  
  
B'Elanna's relief was barely noticeable, but the Doctor had good senses. He could tell. Strange. "So, Lieutenant, do I have a clean bill of health?"  
  
"What? Oh, you're fine." She turned to leave. "Computer, shut down EMH." But her back was turned, and she did not see that the Doctor was still there, looking very confused. He had been given the right to shut down his own program years ago. Why in space would she give the computer that command? It was as if she'd forgotten that he had been given the rights of a crewmember. How rude! He pondered this change in behavior for several minutes after she left.  
  
****************************************************  
  
Hmmm. What's going on on this weird ship? Who knows? Oh, wait, I know. But I'm not telling. Muahahahahaha! 


	3. War

Oh, No, Not Another Mutiny!  
  
Disclaimer: Did you ever see LMR in the credits of Voyager?  
  
******************************* Chapter 3: War  
The Captain's face was set like marble in an expression of fury. "So, I hear you had a little bit of trouble in the corridors today."  
  
Parker hung his head. "Yes, Ma'am."  
  
"This isn't like you, Ensign. What happened?"  
  
"Something is going on with the Maquis, Captain. There up to something, I know it. Whatever it is, Commander Chakotay is behind it. When he talked to Redding, he took him aside, and I could have sworn that I heard Chakotay tell him to be more discreet."  
  
The Captain frowned in concentration. "It did seem to me that something was amiss with Ensign Redding. He didn't report to me when he was told. That did seem strange to me. You say Chakotay pulled him aside to talk to him?"  
  
"Yes, Ma'am."  
  
"But several people reported that they heard Chakotay order him to my ready room. Do you suppose it's possible that Chakotay first told him, while they were talking quietly to not come here, just hypothetically?"  
  
"Hypothetically, I suppose so. I don't trust the Maquis, Ma'am. If I may speak freely, I believe they're planning an uprising."  
  
"I have to admit," the Captain offered. "The same idea had occurred to me." An afterthought. "Ensign, don't do it again. We don't want them to know we suspect any thing."  
  
****************************************  
  
"Lieutenant Paris, my ready room please."  
  
"Aye, Captain." He entered. "You wanted to speak to me, Ma'am?" She nodded grimly. "I don't know if you've noticed lately, but I think the Maquis are up to something. Have you noticed anything bizarre?"  
  
"No, Ma'am, but I'll be sure to let you know."  
  
"I'll be frank with you, Tom, It think there might be an all out altercation with the Maquis. I understand this might be difficult for you."  
  
He nodded. "Because of my less than stellar history with Starfleet, I'm assuming?"  
  
"Of course, " the Captain replied. "What else would there be?"  
  
"Don't worry, Captain," he said, "I'm looking forward to proving myself to Starfleet. No Maquis on this ship stands a chance."  
  
******************************************  
  
At about the same time, Lieutenant B'Elanna Torres walked to her quarters. The room was completely empty, but she didn't seem to notice. "Computer," she said sleepily, "Wake me at 0700 hours." The computer made no sound, but she heard it, none the less. She lay down on the floor and fell asleep.  
  
*****************************************  
  
As the Captain was appraising all the Starfleet crewmembers of the situation, Chakotay was doing the same with his group. They were advised to keep a low profile and not engage any of the Starfleet, not yet, anyway. He laid out their plans. The crews were about equal, so at the appointed day and time, each Maquis would find a reason to be near precisely one Starfleet crew member - no more no less. Each was to shadow that person until Chakotay gave the order over the intercom. Then, and only then, were they to attack. They would shoot the person they were shadowing, and within a matter of minutes, the ship was theirs. Chakotay knew his plan was flawless with a single-minded determination that he hated Starfleet. The others of his group had much the same feeling. Never in any discussions had a motive even been brought to light.  
  
************************************  
  
"Ow! Computer, standard illumination." Neelix's room lit up. He had tripped over a piece of Tailaxian art he kept near his door. It really hurt. Probably nothing. He tried to walk on it. Ouch! Okay, maybe not nothing. Maybe he should go to sickbay.  
  
"Doc, are you in here?"  
  
"Ah, Neelix. How are you tonight?"  
  
"Well, all right, I suppose, except that I think I just sprained my ankle."  
  
The Doctor reached up a hand to stop him. "Let's let the professional do the diagnosis, please."  
  
"Oh, of course, Doctor," Neelix chuckled a little. "Didn't mean to overstep my bounds."  
  
The Doctor smiled, scanning. "I must say, it's nice to have someone in sickbay who still acts like himself."  
  
Neelix looked perplexed. "What do you mean, Doctor?"  
  
"Over the past week, everyone who's come in here has been acting absolutely bizarre. In fact, when I called him in to help a few days ago, I asked Mr. Paris how B'Elanna was doing, he looked at me as if perhaps a waterfowl had perched on my cranium. But he didn't say anything. Like he blocked out the question. And everyone else has been the same way. No facial expression, except," he seemed to be thinking "except a look of hate sometimes."  
  
"Hate?" Now Neelix was really confused.. "Toward you?"  
  
"No." The Doctor puffed up and became somewhat stuffy. "As a matter of fact, they don't regard me at all. It's as if I don't exist." He snorted. "Except of course for Seven, who acknowledges my existence long enough to insult me."  
  
"You know, Doctor, I've noticed the same thing in the mess hall. Everyone's got this dazed look. They just don't seem right somehow. I've noticed some of that hatred, too. Did you hear about the fight?"  
  
"Yes, I treated the injuries. Apparently it was a scuffle between Starfleet and Maquis crewmembers."  
  
"Um. I don't understand. There hasn't been a problem with that in ages. I think half of them don't even remember which one they were anymore." But Neelix's attempt at a joke didn't seem to be getting through to the Doctor.  
  
"You know, you're right. When I see patients looking at each other like that, it's always one Starfleet and one Maquis. It doesn't make sense."  
  
"There are other things, too," Neelix pointed out. "None of them ever seem to be concentrating on anything. They just walk around in a perpetual daze."  
  
"I know exactly what you mean. When Mr. Paris was here two days ago, he didn't act up in the slightest. Most unlike him. I would tell him to do something, no whining, no complaints, nothing. He just did what he was supposed to without any trouble. He didn't seem to be paying attention at all." He paused. "I must admit, I took slight advantage of the situation. I kept him on for an extra half hour and gave him some extra chores."  
  
Now Neelix seemed really surprised. "And he didn't protest at all? No, that's really not like him. No offense, Doctor, but he really hates coming here." He thought for a moment. "Tell me, Doctor, did he come here on time and without complaining, or did you have to call him."  
  
The Doctor rolled his eyes. "As usual, he had apparently forgotten his duties here. I had to contact him and tell him to come."  
  
"How did he respond?"  
  
The Doctor thought about this. "No response, he just came. Then stared blankly until I told him what to do."  
  
"Very strange." Neelix's brows furrowed in concentration. "Has everyone been like this, I mean, except me?"  
  
The Doctor thought for a moment, then brightened. He tapped his combadge. "Seven of Nine, report to Sickbay."  
  
********************************************  
  
At that very moment, the ship was being watched. A youth who appeared about twenty years old (but who was, in fact, three) was gazing at the ship, at the people inside. He knew exactly what was going on. He had to admit, it was very funny. He might like to see what would happen. Then again, it could be dangerous. He couldn't let anything happen to Aunt Kathy. Dad would be furious. But maybe there was a way to have his cake and eat it, too.  
  
*************************************************  
  
The other party watching Voyager was not nearly so benevolent. They didn't care about the people on the ship in the slightest. Natives of the nebula, they had learned a few tricks. Tricks they gladly put to use on anyone who might pass through. What could have been construed as a smile crossed an alien face, wispy and pink. The monsters were due on Voyager. **************************************************************  
  
Hmmmm. Does anybody know what's going on yet? R&R folks! Love from LMR 


	4. Confrontation

Oh, No, Not Another Mutiny!  
  
Disclaimer: I don't think I own Star Trek, but then again, that lightning really hurt.  
Chapter 4: Confrontation  
The zero hour was closing in. Chakotay was about to give his command. The Maquis were tense, knowing what was coming. The Starfleet were uptight, detecting the trouble that was about to start. The only ones unaffected were the Doctor, Seven, and Neelix. Not that they weren't nervous, but their difficulties were caused by something else entirely. They knew the crew was acting strangely, but they weren't afraid of one group or another, but rather what the groups might do to each other. They were acting positively mad.  
  
Seven could sense the trouble, but had not yet spoken to anyone about it. She made her way to sickbay. "You called for me, Doctor?"  
  
"Seven, have you noticed any of the crewmembers acting, bizarre, over the past few days?"  
  
She looked hat him questioningly. "Strange how?"  
"Paranoid, dazed?"  
"Indeed," Seven responded, "Many of the crewmembers have been acting rather . . . peculiar. Why do you ask."  
  
Neelix interjected. "We're worried about them. There seems to be trouble brewing between the Maquis and Starfleet crewmembers."  
  
"If I have understood the Captain correctly, there were no longer any difficulties in that area."  
  
"That's right," the Doctor confirmed. "Until last week. All the sudden the old contention is reemerging, and stronger than it ever was before. It seems that the crewmembers are in a daze, and all they feel is hate toward members of the other group."  
  
"The three of us have not been affected," Seven pointed out.  
  
"No," the Doctor responded. "I suspect that is because we have no loyalties to one group or the other. We are independent of the feud."  
  
"Well, wait a second, Doc. Seven and I are, but you are, technically, Starfleet. Shouldn't you be affected, too?"  
  
The Doctor frowned, thinking. "You're right, Mr. Neelix. The only difference I can see is that I'm the only holographic crewmember. Do you suppose that has something to do with it?"  
  
"It is possible." Seven concentrated for a moment. "Approximately when did these behavioral changes begin?"  
  
"I would say. . ." The Doctor smiled, realizing something. "About the time we entered the nebula, I believe."  
  
"Do you suppose that could be the cause, Doctor?" Neelix asked excitedly. The Doctor nodded. "I don't want to jump to any hasty conclusions, Mr. Neelix, but I would day it's a very good possibility."  
  
Seven got a look on her face that suggested maybe she had come to a conclusion. "Have either or you noted any change in the suggestibility of the crew."  
  
Neelix's excitement grew. "You're right! Just the other day, when this all seemed to start, I told Ensign Kim that I thought he liked a dish. Well, I knew perfectly well that he didn't, but he suddenly looked. . . zoned and responded that he really did like it. Why, Seven, have you noticed that?"  
  
"Indeed. Doctor?"  
  
"Yes, now that you mention it, yes. That incident with Mr. Paris. He blindly followed all the instructions that I gave him." The Doctor seemed intrigued, and just a bit mischievous."  
  
"Doctor, the crew. We are concerned," Seven reminded him.  
  
He snapped out of it. "Of course. Very concerned. Do you suppose the nebula is causing the suggestibility?'  
  
"That is the logical conclusion, yes."  
  
Neelix was thinking. "Even if the nebula does cause suggestibility, which does make sense, someone or something had to have given the crew the suggestion that they couldn't trust each other. Who would be doing that?"  
  
"I don't know," the Doctor replied. "And that worries me."  
  
***********************************************  
  
Jr. was as troublesome as his father, and every bit as intelligent as well. He knew that the crew would be in big trouble if Chakotay's plan went through. So when zero hour arrived, he snapped his fingers.  
  
Not a phaser was left on Voyager.  
  
********************************************  
  
Simultaneously, all the Maquis on the ship reached for their weapons and found that they had none. By the time they had made this discovery, their shadowed Starfleet crewmembers knew what they intended. They reached for their weapons and had the same problem. fist fights broke out all across the ship at once. It was a disaster, not to mention no one was actually flying the ship.  
  
****************************************  
  
Inside sickbay, the noises were quite clear. I think the time for hypothesizing is over," the Doctor pointed out. "We need to do something to save this crew."  
  
**********************************************  
  
Lt. Paris had not really noticed the difficulties outside his quarters. He was relaxing after a long duty shift, and for the past few minutes, had not worried about the mess between the Maquis and Starfleet. He felt distant from it at the moment. What he didn't know, was that the Maquis shadowing him was approaching his door at that very moment.  
  
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R&R and I'll give you a cookie! Love, LMR 


	5. Two Warring Houses

Oh, No, Not Another Mutiny!  
  
Disclaimer: Oh, Ricky, can't I own the show? No, Lucy, you own the show! You got some 'splainin' to do!  
  
A/N: I'm am so overwhelmed with the reviews! I love you guys! I honestly didn't expect anyone to read it, let alone like it! It was based on a goofy dream I had. I told myself that I would be satisfied with one positive review. Boy was I surprised! I appreciate it so much! Keep the feedback coming!  
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Chapter 5: Two Warring Houses "And the Kuva'Mach shall be born out of two warring houses." ~ Ancient Klingon prophesy  
  
*******************************  
Paris snapped out of his reverie. He would need to be on guard. "Replicator, a phaser."  
  
"Unable to comply."  
  
"Dammit! Computer, five inch knife and one yard of nylon cord. He looked at the outside wall of his quarters and smiled. That ought to be sufficient for what he had in mind.  
  
Before coming to his quarters, Tom's shadow had also replicated a weapon, a ten inch dagger with two serrated edges, and the capacity to disembowel a person with a flick of the wrist, thanks to a clever little gadget on the handle. It packed a nasty little sting.  
  
It did not register in B'Elanna's mind that she entered the door of her own accord, with her own password, without waiting for someone to answer. Tom did not notice either.  
  
He grabbed the knife as soon as he saw her. "Is that the best you could do, Starfleet?" she sneered. "A little kitchen knife and some rope?"  
  
He smiled, never losing his cool. "No, it's a decoy." And before she had time to react, he had thrown down the knife and reached for a bant'leth off the wall.  
  
A bant'leth!? What the hell was a human doing with one of those? She barely knew how to use them. She remembered, in little flashes, a few things. A holodeck program with monsters. Her red sports jumpsuit. A really cute instructor. It didn't really make sense. It was all hazy. She pushed it out of her mind. Unimportant. She reacted without thinking. There was another bant'eth, perpendicular to the one he had taken, the two had been in an 'x' over a table. Why?  
  
He not only knew how to use the bant'leth but the code of honor that accompanied it. He stood opposite her, a few feet away, bant'leth poised for battle. They came toward each other at the same time, swinging their bant'leths in arcs, a move of both momentum and intimidation. Metal stuck metal in one loud collision, both at the top of the blade. Tom was the first to move his weapon, forcing it upward and throwing B'Elanna off balance. She recovered quickly, ducked her head down, avoiding a deadly swing, wheeled around, regaining her composure. She went low this time, but he anticipated it, blocked. They were held in stalemate for some time. Then Tom got the upper hand in a moment when the Maquis seemed preoccupied. A flash of gold on a finger, breaking through otherwise foggy vision. She was knocked off her feet onto the bed. Something familiar. She used it as a springboard, lifting her legs high into the air, close together, toes pointed like a dancer, used her weapon for leverage, pulled her entire body up save her upper back, bounced up, and was back on her feet in seconds. She swung her weapon in a vicious arc, and for some inexplicable reason, the Starfleet felt impressed, even a little proud. But his thoughts made him vulnerable, and she knocked him to the floor with the dull side of her blade. His bant'leth soared across the room.  
  
She raised the bant'leth to strike.  
  
********************************  
"This seems like a case of mass hypnosis," the Doctor pointed out. "Like something or someone has made the crew extremely suggestible, so that they see only what they expect to see, then convinced them that the Maquis and Starfleet shouldn't trust each other."  
  
"So you believe it is the nebula causing this state, Doctor?" Seven wondered.  
  
"I think so, yes. It must be causing some kind of abnormal delta brain wave activity. And someone has been taking advantage of the nebula to implant these suggestions and put us at odds with each other."  
  
"But who would want to that, Doctor?" Neelix wondered.  
  
"I don't know, but we had better figure out how to snap them out of it before they all kill each other."  
  
Neelix seemed very worried. "Can they be made to do anything? Are they just puppets on a string to whoever is doing this?"  
  
"Not completely. We do have a few advantages. For example, a person under hypnosis will not do anything that they would never morally do."  
  
Neelix brightened. "That means they won't hurt each other. They'll be fine!"  
  
"Not necessarily, Neelix," Seven pointed out. Both Starfleet and Maquis crewmembers have been taught as soldiers. Their memory seems to have been damaged, so we can assume that most of them don't feel a connection to each other. And as soldiers they learned that it is sometimes necessary to fight. If they do believe that there is an altercation that needs to take place, they will behave like soldiers. It is quite likely that some will be hurt, if not killed."  
  
***********************************************  
Memories returned with the physical force of a punch in the stomach, knocking the wind out of her. She nearly dropped the weapon, but stopped short when she looked at Tom, she saw that the hatred, the madness, had not left his eyes. He saw her as a Maquis enemy, nothing more. But she was safe, she knew, he couldn't reach his weapon. She grabbed the rope on the table and bound his hands behind his back. She was now near the point of tears. "You're hurt. We're going to sickbay."  
  
"What, you don't want to kill me?" He scoffed.  
  
"No." There was a serious and somewhat sad tone in her voice that gave Tom pause. "Not yet, anyway. Later, you are in big trouble." For some inexplicable reason, that statement filled him with fear like no other. She helped him up. "Stay there." She moved to the kitchenette, mumbled something to the replicator, grabbed a scrubber from beside the sink, and shoved it against his back. "I replicated a phaser. Walk."  
  
"Nice try, but the replicator won't make phasers."  
  
"Funny, it worked just fine for me. You really want to take that chance? Walk."  
*************************************  
  
"Doctor, there's something wrong with Tom." She explained the bant'leth fight. The three looked at each other quizzically. A Starfleet and a Maquis. Obviously, something was still wrong with Mr. Paris, but B'Elanna seemed fine. Could she possibly have gotten better?  
  
The Doctor decided to test this hypothesis. "Why are you bringing this Starfleet to sickbay? Don't you want to kill him?"  
  
She understood. "I don't know what's going on, Doctor, but I've snapped out of it." She pulled him aside and whispered, quite a bit distressed, "I nearly killed him. I didn't wake up until the blade was just a few centimeters from his neck."  
  
"Relax, B'Elanna. People will do strange things under a state of extreme suggestibility." He scanned her with a triquarter while she spoke, checking her brain wave activity. Back to normal beta waves. Good. "There's nothing wrong with you."  
  
"I know!" She was visibly irritated now. "It's him! He doesn't know me at all." She whacked him over the head with the sponge scrubber. Tom was, at this point, completely confused. Her voice turned from angry to sad. "Why doesn't he remember?"  
  
The Doctor had a theory. "B'Elanna, at any time did he have you in a compromising position-" The Doctor could have kicked himself for the wording of that question. He grumbled, trying to ignore the look B'Elanna was giving him. "Did he have you in a position where he could have seriously harmed you?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Just as I thought. When a person made extremely suggestible like the crew appear to be, he will not do anything that he normally would be absolutely unable to do. Obviously you couldn't kill him, so the delta wave state was broken and you recovered your memories. Because he was never in that position, he was never faced with a moral dilemma in the way that you were. Had the situation been reversed, you would be the one over there acting like a fool while he dragged you to sickbay. All this proves is that you are the better bant'leth fighter, which by the way, Mr. Paris has already informed me. We'll just find a way to ease him back into his memories. He'll be back to his old self in no time." The Doctor wore his perpetual look of distaste. "That may or may not be a good thing."  
************************************************************  
  
Well, I sure hope you enjoyed reading that chapter because I think that's the most fun I've ever had writing anything. R&R Luv ya' much. ~LMR* 


	6. Desperately Seeking Junior

Oh, No, Not Another Mutiny!  
  
Disclaimer: This is the fiction where ownership doesn't matter. Yup, it doesn't matter, kind of like intelligence on a sitcom.  
  
Spoilers: Equinox Part 2 (The Clementine bit)  
  
AN: Please, no whining from Chakotay fans. I'm just trying to keep everyone in character, and that means that some people may be mean to other characters. This does not necessarily reflect the feelings of the fanfc writer. (Then again, it just might. Just kidding, I like Chakotay just fine, just not with 7.) Also, I told you the pairings for the story from the very beginning, so I don't want to get any unintelligible flames for putting the wrong people together. Constructive criticism only, please. I assure you, Chakotay/7 'shippers that I have been told many times that I am (pick one): the dumbest creature to have ever crawled out from under a rock. the spawn of Satan. what's wrong with America today, or the ever popular @**%^&ing !#@$%$$@%head!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
  
And no complaining about Q and Janeway, either. It's a JOKE.  
  
Another A.N. this one more pointless than the last: Isn't Kathy (or Cathy) just the most beautiful name? Not that I'm pressuring you, but that just happens to be the name of my perfect. gorgeous, wonderful cat, so the answer to this question is: yes. If anyone says no, I will add a sex scene for Doc and Seven, so you just better answer right! ;)  
  
Yet ANOTHER A.N: There is a surprise 'ship in this fic and I'M NOT TELLING!!!!! Plubth! But this one won't offend anybody (I think). I got the idea for these two from watching 'The Haunting of Deck 12'.  
  
Chapter 6: Desperately Seeking Junior  
  
Chakotay, like everyone else found his phaser missing. Fortunately for him, he had realized this before he went to the Captain's ready room. He had arranged it so that the two of them would be alone (not like that!). He didn't want any other Starfleets interfering. He had discovered ahead of time that his phaser was nowhere to be found. he would have to engage the captain by hand. He could get the phaser away from her. She was a gullible Starfleet, and she never killed anything if she could help it. She would invariably have the phaser set to stun. He would be fine.  
  
"Chakotay." Her voice dripped with poison. "I see you haven't been able to get a phaser, either. I guess we'll just have to do this by our wits." Thinking fast. The replicater wouldn't make a phaser. But plenty of things could be used as weapons, even if they weren't. Knowing she could take advantage of that, she said the first thing that came to mind when she thought of a replicater. "Coffee, black!" She reached for the mug and was about to splash it in his face when a snap of the fingers stopped all movement all over the ship. The coffee paused in midair.  
  
"Oh, Kathy, Kathy, Kathy. As much as I would love to see you kill Chakotay; he is, after all, the contender for your heart." He looked at her in that strange Q way of his, somewhere between true affection and his cat's drive to catch the mouse eternally out of reach. "On the other hand, I don't think you would be very happy with me if I let you do that, so I suppose I should interfere. What have you gotten yourself into now, Kathy?" He snapped his fingers again, and simultaneously, the coffee and mug were gone, and time was back to normal.  
  
"Q? What are you doing here? And why did you take away the coffee? I was using it to stop that Maquis."  
  
"That Maquis?" Q questioned. "I don't understand. I was under the impression that you got along just fine." There was obvious annoyance in his voice. "Although I must admit, I like this better."  
  
"Just fine?" the Captain boomed. "He's trying to take over my ship!"  
  
"Oh, Kathy, that's absurd." he told her.  
  
"No, she's right. This will be a Maquis ship!" Chakotay yelled. There was nothing in his voice but hate.  
  
"Over my dead body!" The Captain raged back. "Fine with me, Starfleet." "Stop it, you imbecilic mortals!" He stopped short, turning back to the Captain. "Oh, I'm sorry, Kathy, dear, I didn't mean it." Back to Chakotay, he stuck out his tongue. The two lunged at each other again. Q snapped his fingers and they were both instantly restrained. Chakotay sat on a hard wooden chair bound in a straight jacket, while Janeway sat on a plush leather couch with her hands down at her side tied with light scarves to the legs of the sofa. Chakotay glared. "What? I'm biased. I admit that." But please, stop trying to kill each other. Like so many that you have, that would be a bad idea.." He pointed accusingly at Chakotay. "Especially for you.." Back to Janeway. "I wouldn't blame you one bit." His face became serious again. "But we need to figure out what is wrong with the two of you. Do all the Starfleets and Maquis hate each other right now? Are they all at battle?"  
  
"Of course, you idiot!" Chakotay informed him "This is a mutiny."  
  
*************************************  
  
On the other side of the ship, Harry's shadow was approaching. She was, technically, trained to be a soldier, so as Seven had stated before the commercial break, she was quite capable of killing someone if she had to.  
  
Then again, she was a bloody coward. She had panicked when she found that she had no phaser. First, she thought she had lost it. She tended to do that sometimes. But then she'd talked to a Maquis friend, found out that her phaser was missing, too. She'd been hoping Chakotay would call the whole thing off. She didn't like it from the beginning. Sure, she hated the Starfleets, but couldn't they just get their free ride home, and then start fighting Starfleet again. It was just too risky on the ship. But Chakotay hadn't called it off. And she was loyal, although a little bit off. (She would be a Hufflepuff if she went to Hogwarts. Hufflepuff rules! But that's off the topic.)  
  
"So, Crewman. You're the one who came for me." Harry didn't sound particularly upset. Actually, he was relived. He had been afraid he wouldn't be able to fight off anyone else. Sure, he was a good soldier, but frankly, he just wasn't very skilled in hand to hand combat.  
  
Besides, he got kind of scared. But Crewman Jorr, he could handle.  
  
But she was quick, anyway. "Oof." Before Harry knew what hit him, she had tackled him, just about the only tactic for fighting she knew besides using her phaser. She had completely caught him off-guard. Jorr was quicker, but Harry was stronger, and managed to flip her over, before she could completely squish him. He held her down to the ground. He barely registered similar battles going on around him They froze.  
  
***************************************************  
  
He snapped his fingers again. "Well, I had better put a stop to that. I've grown quite fond of this crew, silly little beings that the are, and I wouldn't want them to hurt themselves."  
  
"What did you do?" Chakotay wondered.  
  
"The rest of the crew is suspended in time. Meanwhile, we're going to find out what's going on here."  
  
"What are you doing here, Q?" the Captain wanted to know.  
  
"I came looking for Junior. I thought he might have come to visit.  
  
"I haven't seen him, now will you go away so I can take back my ship?" The Captain was as furious as Q had seen her since he had snapped her into a negligee.  
  
"I assure you, Kathy dear, that your ship is in no danger. I don't know what is going on here, but your crew is not going to destroy itself."  
  
"I think I can explain." With a snap, there was another . . . um . . .person(?) in the room.  
  
"Junior! Where have you been? I've been looking all over for you. You are in big trouble, young man."  
  
"Relax, Dad, I've been in this nebula the whole time. And you should be grateful that I have. If I hadn't been here to interfere, the crew might have all killed each other. I took their weapons." He pondered this for a minute. Except for two people who apparently had some decorative ancient weaponry." Captain Janeway looked puzzled. He clarified. "You know, the idiot pair in Deck 9, Section 12 ;P. Nearly killed each other, but one of them got her senses back, and the other one's restrained." Everyone is safe, Dad, thanks to me."  
  
Q scowled. "Okay, you're not in trouble. . .. this time. But only because you saved Kathy and the rest of these fools." Junior looked thrilled with himself. "Now, do you know what's going on here? Why are they acting like this?"  
  
"It's something about this nebula we're in. I've seen some of the residents. They hated me. See, this nebula has some kind of strange power over mortals brains. I don't know exactly what it is, but the natives love it. They use it against people traveling through. They couldn't do anything to me, and that really ticked them off." He thought for a moment. "We could just let them pass through the nebula, keeping them from hurting each other until they're out, but it's a long trip. There would definitely be difficulties. I suggest taking them to sickbay and finding out how we can snap them out of it. I've seen that the Doctor isn't affected by it, so he'll help us. And I know that one member of the crew has already broken the spell. There's no reason the others can't, too."  
  
"Agreed." Q snapped them to sickbay.  
  
*****************************  
  
"What are you doing here?" The Doctor was obviously perturbed.  
  
"Saving your crew. In case you haven't noticed, they're a little dysfunctional right now. More than usual, I mean." He looked around the room. "Helmboy. All tied up I see." Tom glared, as did B'Elanna.  
  
"Oh, I see," Q stated. "Going kinky. Tried that. I was really somewhat disappointed. The whole bondage thing is over hyped. Frankly, I found it boring."  
  
":Eeeeeew, Dad! Don't tell me that."  
  
"Shut up, Q, and help us get everyone back to normal." This was B'Elanna, who was, by now, furious, and definitely not amused by his humor.  
  
"Pushy, pushy. I'll help you. What exactly seems to be the trouble?"  
  
The Doctor, perturbed as he was, told him what they had learned about the nebula.. "Apparently, it disrupts the normal brain functioning, puts individuals into a delta brain wave state, one of extreme suggestibility."  
  
"Oh, yackity, shmackity. It wiped your brains. It didn't have a lot of work to do. Anyway, according to Junior, the natives of this area plant suggestions in travelers' brains to make them fight each other."  
  
"Why would they want to do that?" Neelix wondered.  
  
Junior fielded this one. "That's simple, they're mean. They like to see people get all screwed up They think it's funny. Can you image anyone doing anything so silly as that?"  
  
The answer was simultaneous. "Yes!" Q huffed.  
  
Junior suddenly became sidetracked. He turned to Seven. "Hey, Pretty."  
  
She raised an eyebrow in that Sevenish way. "If I understand the Doctor correctly, the proper response to this situation is, 'Shove off, Scumbag.'" There was no trace of emotion in her voice. The Doctor beamed.  
  
"What's her problem?"  
  
The Doctor took his arm, took him to a nearby examination table, and flopped him onto it. "I assure you, Junior, the problem is with you." He smiled sardonically. A strange look crossed over Seven's face which only the cameraman noticed. It was not unlike the look of an individual who briefly saw a specter of something feathery and web -footed on the top of an individual.  
  
"Well, can't you snap these creatures into oblivion or something?" B'Elanna wanted to know.  
  
"Of course not. That would be violating the Prime Directive, right Kathy dear?" A more serious look crossed his face. "In all honesty, I'm not trying to be cruel; it's just like the times I refused to send you home. I know you can do it on your own. Kind of like why Hannibal Lecter never just told Clarice who the murderer was. Confidence boost."  
  
Tom perked up. "Are we talking about ancient horror movies?"  
  
"Shut up, Tom." B'Ela was still holding the foam scrubber so he obeyed. Through his missing memories, he somehow knew that he had to listen to her, or else.  
  
"Besides," Q continued. "This should really be funny. I'll give you a fifteen minute head start: everyone else on the ship will remain frozen till then. Have fun." He snapped himself and Junior away, leaving the sofa and the straightjacket.  
  
"Will you take this thing off, Doctor?"  
  
"Will you promise not to try to kill the Captain or Lieutenant Paris?"  
  
"Of course not, this is a war!"  
  
"Then you stay in the straightjacket. If Q won't help us, we'll have to do this on our own. Obviously, the Captain and first mate won't be much help, so I think, at least for now, the four of us are going to have to manage for ourselves."  
  
"What about Tom?" B'Elanna wanted to know.  
  
"You stay here: try to get him to remember. Maybe he'll listen to you."  
  
She looked at the Doctor blankly. "He never listens to me."  
  
"Um, well, good luck." He turned back to the others. "Fifteen minutes isn't going to be enough to straighten this out. We'll need to buy some more time. I suggest we pump an anesthetic through the air vents to knock them out for an additional hour or so while we figure out a way to bring their brain waves back into the beta state."  
  
"But won't it take time for us to make up a gas and distribute it through the ship?" Neelix wondered.  
  
"Yes, but we should be able to get it done within the next ten minutes. Seven, if you'll assist me?"  
  
"Certainly, Doctor."  
  
"What can I do?" Neelix wanted to know.  
  
The Doctor really didn't have an answer to that one, so he made one up. "Talk to the Captain and Commander Chakotay. See if you can talk some sense into them."  
  
He grinned. "The morale officer is on the job."  
  
Seven and the Doctor headed to the medical lab in the center of the room. Seven seemed anxious. "Doctor," she said, staring intently at the screen in front of her. "When Junior insulted me, I sensed something in you."  
  
Suddenly, the anxiety was contagious. "Hmm, I don't like people to treat my . . . friends like that."  
  
"You forget, Doctor, you cannot lie to me. I posses your level of sensory abilities, if not greater. Your temperature rose point five degrees, the level of blood in your face increased significantly, as did your blood pressure."  
  
"So?"  
  
"Doctor, you have taught me the symptoms of many emotions. You are clearly suffering from acute jealousy."  
  
"Am not!"  
  
"You have developed romantic feelings for me." It was not a question. She stopped him before he could manage to talk himself into a hole. "There is no need to be self conscious, Doctor. Embarrassment is irrelevant. I feel no discomfort for this revelation." She almost smiled. "I really should have known, only amorous feelings could restore a deleted ethical subroutine with nothing more than a vocal sub processor - perfect though it may be."  
  
The Doctor laughed slightly at the joke no one else on the ship would have understood, let alone found funny. It was their own language, and no one else was allowed in. No one else would want in. "True. Had you not started in on 'You Are My Sunshine', I might never have recovered." He huffed. "And I was not off-key." ****************************************  
  
Tom struggled to get out of his restraints. B'Elanna was approaching the place where he sat, and he just knew she was going to try to kill him. He had to get away.  
  
But the look on her face wasn't angry or violent at all. He saw some annoyance, and even a little sadness. She sat down on the examining table next to him. "I'll tell you the truth . . . Paris." Geeze, that's weird. "I couldn't care less about this mutiny. I think it's a stupid idea. She was having a hard time speaking so many things that were wrong to her. "I mean, if Janeway is dumb enough to just let us have free range of the ship and get a ride right back to the Delta Quadrant, who cares about a few idiot Starfleet regs? We've got it easy, why change that?" She sighed. "Anyway, I'm not feeling particularly violent today."  
  
"You seemed pretty violent when you had that bat'leth."  
  
"I've had a change of heart," she said softly. "Besides, I was taught by the best instructor in the delta quadrant." She looked to him for any sign of recognition. None. "He's a full human, too. Surprising, isn't it?"  
  
"I guess so."  
  
B'Elanna rolled her eyes. This was going to be impossible. He was completely blank. She would have to be a little more vicious. "Where did you learn how to fight with one of those?"  
  
"I don't really remember. I think it was a holodeck program."  
  
Okay, he got that one right. Try again.  
  
"Why did you want to? Most humans think it's barbaric."  
  
"I like it. I like a lot of Klingon stuff."  
  
Now we were getting somewhere. "Why?"  
  
"Don't know,:" was his only reply. "Why do you care?"  
  
She shrugged, getting really frustrated. "It's interesting, that's all." She wasn't getting through to him at all. "You don't trust me, but I don't want to hurt you, and I'll prove it."  
  
She undid the straps, making sure that the knife was still firmly in her grasp. Just in case  
  
"You've still got the knife," he pointed out. She nodded a little - threw it behind her.  
  
He laughed, a bitter sound. "You're bold, Maquis, I'll give you that." She hated that he addressed her that way.  
  
. Time for the big guns. She was sitting to his right. "What's that?" She traced an arc, a scar across his jawbone. She liked that scar. "Looks like you got a pretty bad cut. Didn't get treated for a while " She spoke absently, as if it didn't really matter She laughed a little. "Funny, it looks almost like a bite. How in the world did you get that?"  
  
"I don't remember it." He seemed puzzled. "A bite? I must have gotten it from some kind of wild animal."  
  
B'Elanna was seething. He couldn't even remember that. Okay, she decided. That was it. No more Lieutenant Nice Person. "Pretty ring." She pointed to his wedding band with her left hand, hers clearly visible. "Where did you get it?"  
  
Apparently, this question didn't bode well for him. She was starting to break down his delusional schema, and his defenses were up. "Someplace called Sacari, I think. I don't remember! Why do you want to find out everything about me? Are you pumping me for information?"  
  
"I don't see how asking where you got your jewelry is really pertinent to a mutiny."  
  
He seemed to realize that it was indeed a pretty stupid question, tactically, but that didn't stop him from coming up with an excuse. A really pathetic excuse. "You could be trying to wear me down. Make me nice and comfortable so you can interrogate me, and I wouldn't notice."  
  
She slipped. "You're not that stupid, Tom." (A.N.: not true) He seemed taken aback by this comment and her tone of voice, serious and kind, but persisted with his pathetic excuses.  
  
"Maybe you think it's some kind of communication device. It's not. I'll prove it," he said, mimicking her, or perhaps mocking her. He took it off and threw it across the room. It landed right beside the knife.  
  
B'Ela jumped up immediately. "Hey!" she shouted. "Don't do that!" He didn't understand. She ran to retrieve it, and saw the knife. Last resort.  
  
***************************************************  
  
"Done," Seven informed the Doctor. "Should I release the toxin now?"  
  
The Doctor nodded seriously. "Go ahead." It was only six minutes since Q had stopped time. They were ahead of schedule. Good. "That should give us another hour to find out how to fix this thing."  
  
"Any plans, Doctor?"  
  
He thought about that for a moment. "The aliens in this sector use the delta brain waves caused by the nebula to make harmful suggestions to the people who pass through. I see no reason we can't put healthier suggestions into their minds, suggestions that would nullify those made by the locals."  
  
Seven caught on quickly. "Convince them that the Maquis and Starfleet are friends."  
  
"Exactly." The Doctor looked smug. "I think I can pull off a little mass hypnosis."  
  
"If hypnosis is droning in monotone, I am certain you will have no trouble." Her voice was completely serious, but on her face was the smile that none but the Doctor could ever detect.  
  
*************************************************  
  
"Hello, Captain, Commander!" Neelix was, surprise, surprise, perky.  
  
"Neelix, untie me right now, that's an order!"  
  
He winced a little, as he tended to do when he was regretful. "I'm sorry Captain, but you know I can't do that. I'm afraid you might hurt each other." His voice was soft and somewhat therapeutic. "You don't want to hurt anyone."  
  
The captain looked at him with uncharacteristically cold, dark, almost evil eyes. "But I do. And I'm sorry."  
  
Tom perked up, ignoring the fact that that strange Maquis was rifling around, looking for that silly ring. "Are we talking about ancient horror movies again?"  
  
The Doctor and B'Elanna spoke simultaneously this time. "Shut up, Tom!"  
  
"Oh, come on, Captain, don't you remember Naomi's birthday party? She turned seven. The entire ship was there." He beamed with pride. "I made my famous Patian grumba cake with Talupa frosting." Remember the crew convinced you to do a duet?" He winked. "Granted, we all conspired to get a little synthahol into you, but we got you, eventually." He poked Chakotay jovially. "You got right up there and sang 'I'm My Own Grandpa'." He laughed heartily. "Now those were good times. Don't tell me you don't remember." He shook his head sadly. "Too bad. We had so much fun that night. Now, why do you think you're enemies?"  
  
"Because s/he's a Starfleet/Maquis!" Their answers were slurred together. They pointed accusingly.  
  
Neelix spread his arms in a gesture of mild frustration. "So what? Sure, you're Maquis. Sure, you're Starfleet. But you're also people! You're friends! Don't you remember?"  
  
"What I remember is that she came here to attack us!"  
  
"And it was my job to stop them!"  
  
"Come on now. The alpha quadrant is light years away. The war is over." He turned to Captain Janeway. "You are the greatest advocate for peace that I've ever met. I know you don't really want to kill anyone just for a difference of opinion. You relish other points of view."  
  
"Not when they're wrong," she said pointedly.  
  
He backed up, his face expressing the pragmatics of one talking to an unhappy child. "Now that's not the Captain Janeway that I know and love." He knelt down by the sofa and pointed at her to emphasize a point. "You believe in second chances. I know you do, because that's why I'm here. And I'm not about to let my friend make a mistake like this. I know you, and I know that friendship and peace are the two most important things to you. And I know you will eventually realize that."  
  
"And you." He turned to Chakotay. "Are a very reasonable man. You're always settling disputes, and you're one of the most fair people that I know. Now how fair is it to turn against someone who has put her faith in you the way that Captain Janeway has?" He turned back so he was looking to both of them "I know it's still in you. Go inside yourselves. Look around. I know you'll find it."  
  
********************************************************  
  
Questions to be answered:  
  
What is B'Elanna going to do with that knife?  
  
Why do the aliens look like cotton candy?  
  
Will Doc and Seven please speak English?  
  
Why ARE we talking about ancient horror movies?  
  
Where is this going? (No, I mean it. I don't know.)  
  
First one who can tell me what Sacari is gets a chocolate chip cookie with mackedamia nuts! 


	7. Deflecting the Effects of the Sub Neural...

Oh, No, Not Another Mutiny! By: LMR Chapter 7: Deflecting the Effects of the Sub-neural Techno Babble Disclaimer: Writing that you don't own the show (or Ghostbusters 2): 5 seconds. Finding something funny to be inspired by: 5 hours. Writing it into a joke: 20 minutes. Typing it: 3 seconds. A disclaimer that will make your readers laugh: priceless. A.N.: If someone could please tell me Crewman Jor's first name, I would be SO grateful. Thanks. By the way, Knight of Darkness (a mighty fanficer at the age of thirteen!) gets the cookie for identifying Sacari as the place where Blood fever (best episode ever) was set. It was the land where the cave was that T. and B. ended up in when she had the Pon Farr. So, Knight of Darkness, if you can ever find me, I promise to give you the cookie. Looking forward to seeing you someday. Happy hunt. And I am extremely sorry, doctorwannabe (), but my mention of the sex scene was an idle threat (or perhaps in this case, promise), because I have to keep the story all sweet and PG, so I'll give you another treat. As for your review, ROTFLMAO! A/N: Sorry about the wait, guys, but I had no idea what I was going to do. Still don't. I'm playing it by ear, and yes, LMR is a smartass. *************************************************************** B'Elanna tentatively took the knife. She'd really hoped it wouldn't come to this. But nothing else was doing the trick. She grasped it. She hated just holding it, and thinking about using it actually made her sick to her stomach. It was different with the bat'leth. That was combat, something they'd both been practicing for a couple of years, ever since those sneaky aliens tried to take over the ship. They had fought with them regularly for practice. But a knife just felt wrong. She walked right up to him.  
"You can trust me, and I'll prove it," she said again. She put the ring in his palm; tightened his fingers over it. "You'll want this." She held out the knife out, handle first. He looked at her quizzically. "Go ahead, take it." She tilted her head back, knowing she shouldn't be afraid. He couldn't But she was afraid, anyway, and ashamed of it. She closed her eyes, squinting them tightly.  
Tom couldn't understand what was happening. Not only was this Maquis completely disloyal, she was also very stupid, or very suicidal, he wasn't sure which.  
"If you insist, Torres."  
He brought the knife to her throat. It was cold, and now she was very afraid. But she felt it falter and fall away, and felt horrible for ever even thinking that it wouldn't. He nearly choked on the shock and the . . . the horror at what he had almost done. She looked him square in the eye, about ten emotions in her face at once. Her voice was serious and angry. "My name is Paris, and don't you ever forget that again."  
"Hey, I thought I was going to change my name?" Tom mock whined.  
"It's just a sappy catchphrase, nobody's changing anything," she told him. "The writers have to make sure that there are at least five really bad catch phrases in every episode."  
*********************************************  
"It's not working, Doctor," Neelix informed him. "They don't remember anything. They really think that they're enemies." He shrugged in a somewhat guilty way, as if he felt like he had failed them. "I just don't know what else I can do."  
"Relax, Neelix," the Doctor reassured him. "We've got the anesthetic. It's being pumped through the air vents as we speak. The sickbay is the only place that isn't being gassed. Chakotay and The Captain are both restrained, so that's no trouble, and Mr. Paris as well." He stopped abruptly. "Hey!" he called, seeing Tom, "He needs to be restrained!"  
"Relax, Doc, he's fine," B'Elanna informed him. "At least, he is for now, later, I don't know" She glared at him, not joking, but truly angry and hurt.  
"I'm sorry," he pleaded. "I don't know-"  
"It's not his fault, B'Elanna." Although he acted like he found them appalling, the Doctor hated to see the two fight. "He didn't know what he was doing anymore than what you did when you were trying to kill him." There was a pique in his voice, as he was clearly reminding her of the earlier incident.  
B'Elanna looked at the floor, somewhat guilty, conceded. "No, Tom, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have blamed you when I did the exact same thing."  
"It's all right," he assured her. He whispered. "And by the way, I love that scar." She laughed a little, trying not to show to anyone around them.  
"Be good, and I'll give you another one later."  
"Please," the Doctor interrupted. "Induced nausia is not a viable cure for what ails they crew." He filled them in on the plan. "We intend to use the nebula's natural mind altering capabilities to send them positive messages about each other, thus counteracting the actions of the aliens."  
"I remember being subjected to a similar program of mind tampering," Seven offered.  
"By the Borg?" Neelix assumed.  
"No, the Hansens. "A positive mind altercation program for children. It consisted of an amorphous purple singing blob. He drilled into the young people's minds that 'I love you, you love me.' It was called a Barney. Perhaps it could come in handy."  
The Doctor winced. "It's possible, Seven, but it could also be very damaging. Earth psychologists discovered a long time ago that once over the age of ten, long term exposure to Barney could cause permanent brain damage and antisocial tendencies. I would consider it a last resort. There must be a better way."  
Tom spoke up. "I'm a little behind, but if I understand correctly, there's a goo and it's wiping our brains and making us all hate each other, and we need to make the goo make us all happy, right?"  
The Doctor rolled his eyes. "Good enough, Mr. Paris. Do you have any ideas?"  
"It's just like Ghostbusters 2."  
They all sighed at once.  
"Seriously, we need something that will inspire the whole crew. Some sign of unity and friendship that will get everyone to forget about killing each other."  
"But there are so many different cultures represented on the ship." The Doctor pointed out. "How can we hope to accommodate them all?"  
B'Elanna looked thoughtful for a moment. "Not necessarily. Originally, we're all from different cultures, true, but when you think about, Voyager is one big community. We have things in common here, from the past six and a half years, things that can remind people here of what it means to be a . . .Voyagerinian."  
"I already tried memories with the Captain and commander, it didn't work."  
Doc frowned. "Specific memories didn't work. What we need is an icon. Something that really represents what it means to be a Voyager."  
"Any ideas?" Tom wondered.  
"What's the one thing that makes us all happy all the time?" B'Elanna prompted. "The holodeck," all but Seven answered immediately.  
"There are many programs on the holodeck," she pointed out. "And I sincerely doubt that even the four of us could decide on one program we all like, let alone the entire ship. That is hardly an icon."  
"All right, so we find something out of our collective past, and bring it up on the holodeck," Neelix proposed.  
The engineer shook her head. "It would take too long to write a program: we need something that's already there."  
"Neelix, what about that luau you hosted a few years ago, do you still have the program for that?" Tom wanted to know. "The whole crew was there."  
"It should still be in the databanks: I never erased it."  
B'Elanna leaned her chin in her hand thoughtfully on the counter. "How are we going to move everybody into the holodeck? They're all knocked senseless, and that many site to site transports would take more time than we have, not to mention putting a real strain on the computer. There's no way we could drag them all there. . . unless." She seemed lost in thought for a moment, then snapped her fingers and suddenly looked attentive. "The Statue of Liberty. Mirrors!" she cried as if she had just invented them. She began to work at a console, completely ignoring the others, who looked to Tom for an explanation.  
"I have no idea."  
"Those magicians you were watching on TV the other night," she said. "They gave me an idea. That and Ghostbusters 2. I can't believe you get me to watch that stuff. Anyway, I can work out this problem the same way they made the Statue of Liberty disappear."  
Tom looked offended. "You said you didn't know how they did it."  
"I was humoring you." She focused on the console. "There are just enough holoemitters around the ship that we should be able to reflect the entire party off of each one in succession. Each emitter will show its own picture, plus those of the two on either side, like mirrors. It won't be entirely convincing, but the crew's kind of doped up anyway, I don't think they'll notice."  
The Doctor nodded his approval. "Now all we have to do is reprogram the characters in the simulation to convince the crew that they don't hate each other."  
Neelix made an observation. "When I ran the luau the first time, none of the characters had any affiliations. Perhaps this time, we should alter the program so that some of the characters are Maquis and some Starfleet. Then we can show them cooperating, and the crew members should play along in kind, I mean, if they're not thinking that well."  
"Good idea, Mr. Neelix," the Doctor praised. The little Thailaxian beamed.  
"How long will it take to rewrite the program?" Seven wanted to know.  
"I can make the alterations to the holoemitters in," B'Elanna thought about it. "Fifteen minutes or so."  
Neelix shrugged. "Shouldn't take me more than a couple minutes to switch the luau characters. I'll get on it as soon as Lieutenant Torres gets it running."  
The Doctor was lost in his own world. "There has never been any problem with hypnosis and its aftereffects on the mind that I know of. But this is a rather different kind of hypnosis. I think it might be beneficial for me to run some diagnostics on you, Mr. Paris, if it wouldn't be too much trouble, just to see exactly how your little lapse affected you. We can get to that while the others work." He glanced at the Captain and Commander Chakotay. "And while they try to outstare each other with dirty looks.  
"What exactly do you remember from your little trip into oblivion?" The Doctor wondered.  
"Not a whole lot. It's sort of like a weird dream." He rubbed the calf of his leg where the blunt side of the Bat'leth had hit it. "I remember being in pain."  
"Hmm. I'll resist making the obvious off color joke here because I'm in a particularly heroic mood today."  
"Hmmhp," was Tom's response. "It's all really vague. The first thing I remember clearly. . ." His voice wavered and fell away, not wanting to think it, let alone say it out loud.  
"It's quite all right," the Doctor reassured him. "She doesn't harbor any resentment over that."  
"She should. I nearly killed her."  
"But you didn't. She knew you wouldn't. She purposely put you in that position to make sure you would snap out of it. She wouldn't have done it if she thought she were in any danger."  
A thought suddenly occurred to him. "She never lets me use the knives in the kitchen."  
"That's a different matter entirely. She doesn't want you to get distracted and cut your hand off. Now sit still so I can do these scans." He stopped short for a moment. "Mr. Paris, you used to be. . . good with women."  
"Why does everybody always say it like that?" He said, frustrated. "I dated a lot, yeah."  
"What does it mean when a woman says she knows you have romantic feelings for her, and that you shouldn't be embarrassed, but doesn't say anything else?"  
Tom was suddenly very attentive. "Who is it? Seven?"  
"Shh, shh, not so loud," the Doctor urged.  
He lowered his voice. "Well it is, isn't it?"  
"She'll hear you," the Doctor practically pouted.  
Tom shrugged, smiling. "She already knows," he pointed out.  
"Well, it's embarrassing," the Doctor asserted.  
"And that's the only reason I dated more than just any old person. I am completely impervious to embarrassment. I am an absolute turkey with women. And do you know what happens to turkeys?"  
"They get eaten with stuffing at the Terran holiday of Thanksgiving (also known as Screw Over the Indigenous Americans Day)," the Doctor was quick to answer.  
"No, turkeys make women comfortable. If you're always willing to go out on a limb and let someone know you care, they feel special. That's the whole point. Do you think I ended up with B'Elanna by acting dignified? I acted like a fool. It's easier to fall in love with a fool." He looked right at the Doctor. "And it's better to be a turkey than a chicken any day."  
"All poultry aside, I think I'll just continue as I have been."  
"All right, Doc. Whatever you say. Just don't give up." ********************************************************* Okay, fluffiness over, for now, anyway. Please review. Love you guys, LMR 


	8. Sweetness and Snugglebunnies not as bad ...

Oh, No, Not Another Mutiny!

By LMR

Disclaimer: Can I borrow Voyager, please?? I'll give it back when I'm finished, which at this rate, will be in five years!

A/N: Thank you so much for your patience. Evil little LMR has taken much too long to update! (Mostly because I have no idea where this is going.) And doctorwannabe(), I haven't forgotten my promise.

Chapter 8: Sweetness and Snugglebunnies

"All right, Doctor," Neelix said, rubbing his hands together in anticipation of hard work as if he were really looking forward to it. "You're the one who understands this brainwave stuff. What exactly do we need to reprogram the holocharacters to do?"

"They need to give suggestions to counteract the suggestions these hostile creatures are giving them. Something cheery and happy." The Doctor's distain for all things cheery and happy was evident in his voice.

"We need to make the holodeck emit sweetness and snugglebunnies, in otherwords." Neelix seemed quite pleased with this idea, and the Doctor found himself sincerely hoping that Neelix would not use this as a jumping off point for the next ship party.

The Doctor harrumphed. "Let's not get carried away, Mr. Neelix. No need to nauseate the crew. It should be sufficient to have Starfleet and Maquis luau characters interacting in positive ways. Attitude follows behavior, Mr. Neelix. The key to a successful and friendly integration of two hostile groups is, to put it simply, forced playtime. Once they begin to interact, they will force themselves to like each other out of cognitive dissonance."

"Um, Doc, I . . . Well, I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Don't worry about it, Mr. Neelix, as long as these characters are friendly to each other, everything will be fine. Computer, run a two minute sample of a group of four interacting, two Maquis, two Starfleet."

There was a low double beep and four characters appeared. They were dressed in the traditional clothes of Starfleet and Maquis, along with leis. They all smiled cheerfully. One woman in a Starfleet uniform spoke with a sugary voice. "It's so nice to be with all my Maquis friends!"

One of the smiling Maquis men agreed. "Absolutely! The Starfleet are such nice people. I'm glad we all get along so well!"

The Doctor grinned, apparently satisfied with his work. Neelix winced a little. "Doctor, not that I'm by any means an expert holocritic, but you don't think that's a little. . ." he searched for a tactful word.

"Pathetic?" Tom piped up. "Doctor, nobody's going to believe that's real. They'll see right through those characters."

The Doctor acted as though he had anticipated such an objection. "Normally, yes, but the crew is obviously in an altered state of consciousness. They'll believe whatever is shown to them. They're under hypnosis, and this is a type of reprogramming. It doesn't need to be sophisticated." He huffed, "Though I would like to see you do better in such a time constraint."

Tom lifted his hands, palms out, as if to excuse himself.

"Doctor," They all jumped, having not even realized that Seven had been standing behind them since the holoprogram sample. "According to my calculations, the crew will be waking up momentarily."

"Thank you, Seven." The Doctor hit his combadge. "Lieutenant Torres? How is that work coming on the holoemiters?"

"Just finished, Doc, I'm headed back now." She stepped over a few bodies of paused crewmembers on her way down the corridor. She paused and glanced down, almost giggling in spite of herself. "Hey, Tom, you need anything to hang over Harry's head?"

"Don't I always?"

"Well, as they say in your dumb old movies, I've got the smoking gun." B'Elanna snapped a holopicture of Harry's compromising position.

Captain Janeway, still struggling against her rather cozy restraints, jerked her head indicating that Neelix should come over. He complied. "Could you hit my combadge for me?" She asked.

Puzzled, the Thailaxian nodded. "Of course, Captain." He tapped the badge.

"This is your Captain. I order you idiots to _shut up_."

A grin broke out across the Doctor's face. "This is progress." Seven raised an eyebrow skeptically, but paid attention. "She called them idiots."

"Doctor," she pointed out dryly. "There has never been anything wrong with her powers of observation."

Doc smiled. "This is the first time she's acknowledged any of the crew as people with personality traits. I'm sorry, Lieutenant (he clearly was not), but idiocy clearly qualifies as a personality trait. She sees you as an individual. That's wonderful progress! Neelix, try to get some more of that out of them. Make them angry if you have to, it seems to work." He hit his combadge again. "B'Elanna, I'm starting the program. Are you ready?"

"Everything's set, Doc." He pressed a few buttons at his console and the computer seemed to whirr to life. Luau characters filled sickbay, and presumably, the entire ship.

Seven turned to the Doctor. "What is our next course of action?"

He thought about that for a moment. "Well, there's really nothing more we can do. Once the crew wakes, things should begin to take care of themselves. We just need to keep the friendly suggestions steady until we reach the other side of the nebula in approximately five hours."

"And until then?" Seven asked.

"Until then, we have nothing to do but enjoy the party." His face brightened. "In fact, we might as well join the show. Computer, replicate one Maquis uniform, specifications. . ." He looked awkwardly at Seven's form, suddenly an adolescent boy. Fortunately, she understood what he was talking about.

"Women's size two."

B'Elanna walked into sickbay as this conversation was going on. She hung back quietly in a corner. As Seven took the uniform to the next room to change, B'Elanna smirked at the Doctor. "Don't you start," he warned her.

She just smiled and requested another Maquis uniform from the computer. If the whole crew was getting a five hour vacation, she wasn't going to sit around here wasting it. It was her duty to be . . . friendly with Starfleet.

"How do you like the look, Doctor?" Seven asked.

"Very nice," he said, in what could have possibly been the biggest understatement of the 24th century.

"Shall we join the party?" She was almost smiling as she offered her arm.

"My pleasure."

In the corridor, crewmembers were beginning to wake, dazed. Paris and Torres were already demonstrating the friendliness of the Maquis and Starfleet, a little too much for the Doctor's liking, and the holocharacters, all bad acting aside, were doing their job well. Confused crewmembers were absorbing the idea that they should all be friends, at least to the extent that no one was getting beaten up.

"Ow, get offa me!" Harry mumbled. Crewman Jor scowled, the same distaste in her eyes at having been caught on top of a Starfleet.

"Don't look so sad, Crewman," a cheery Maquis holocharacter told her. "This is a party! We're all friends, and we should all be having fun!"

Another sickeningly cheery character, this one a Starfleet, chimed in. "Yes! My friend is right! We should all have fun at this nice party. Have a lei." She slipped flower necklaces on both of them.

The two didn't look angry anymore, just confused. Party. Fun. Friends. It seemed to be sinking in. "Do you want some punch?" Jor wondered.

"Um, yeah."

"Okay, we'll get punch." She was still a little gone. Gone enough, in fact, that when she tried to pour herself some punch, she missed the cup completely and poured it on the floor. Not one to leave a mess that she created for someone else to clean up, she bent down to get it with some napkins. Unfortunately, Harry was also not the type to leave a mess, and their heads came together with a predictable "klonk!".

"Ow," They both said. Jor looked down awkwardly, afraid that Harry would see that her face was red. She didn't need to worry about that of course, because he had his head down for the same reason. Finally, Jor smiled. "At least I didn't punch you this time. I don't think I ever properly apologized for that. I'm scared of the dark."

Harry laughed a little. Jor looked wounded until Harry backpedaled a little. "I mean, it's funny, because, me too."

Jor smiled again, glad to know she wasn't alone.

Seven scowled sardonically as she passed the Lieutenants. "I wasn't aware this was a teenage make out party." The Doctor laughed a little. "This was a very good idea. All of it."

"I appreciate the compliment, but you must remember, it was technically, Lieutenant Paris's idea."

"Perhaps, but I don't consider knowledge of antiquidated Billy Murray films to be what really made this possible."

"But I-"

She stopped him. "It was a compliment, Doctor. I suggest you take it, seeing as you seem so certain I hold nothing for you but distain."

The Doctor was dumbstruck.

"I am unaccustomed to recognizing emotions, but when I am around you, I find I have cultivated a . . . fondness." She resumed her businesslike stance. "The crew is watching. I suggest we show them how well the Starfleet and Maquis get along."

And still the Doctor was unprepared for what happened next. She took his face matrix in her hands and kissed him. Shocked at first, the Doctor relaxed and enjoyed it. (That's for you, doctorwannabe()!!!!!)

Q beamed. "Oh, my sweet Kathy. I knew you and your crew would figure it all out on your own. What a resilient little mortal!" His face showed a frankness uncommon for him. "I really do adore you, you know." He lifted her face and kissed her on the lips. She was still both dazed and restrained, which is why Q did not get a black eye for his trouble. He snapped his fingers to unrestrain her, then snapped himself away.

Voyager had once again gone to the brink of wackiness and back. And all was well throughout the ship. Except for one single voice calling out through the Cosmos. "Q! Get me out of this stupid straightjacket!!!!!!!! Q!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

That's all, folks. Please R&R. Love, LMR


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